Antique Dreams
by Wizard of Anthropophage
Summary: Dreams are rare to come by naturally for Earth born and space born people. Usually 1 out of 70 million are capable of having this rare natural dream. With more than ninety percent of Earth and Space civilization lower than Class B, people go night after night of no such 'dreams'. Ivan is a Class A resident and a purchaser of dreams. Warnings: Language. Future pairing. AU.


Oh god… I created another fanfic… Yay! Yes, I have another FF to finish, but I've been reading a lot of science fiction lately, I've been so influence! I'm sorry if this isn't beta, but I don't have one or know how to work that… I need assistance on this particular fic.

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_**Warning: Major confusion!**_

**Chapter 1: Dreaming of Earthborn Snow**

**"Part of the inhumanity of the computer is that, once it is competently programmed and working smoothly, it is completely honest." -Isaac Asimov-**

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Dreams and memories are two different themes.

Dreams are a series of thoughts, emotions and visions that happen during sleep. These images are subjected as imaginary worlds that represent our deepest fears, secrets, or exotic abilities. These imaginary worlds humans dream of in sleep incorporate their daily activities, like a digital flower shop with hologram sunflowers a man passes by, or the giant mechanica-spectrum bird a young woman would gaze at in awe.

Either glimpsing or viewing something, it'll incorporate itself into a human's dream world. Memories are like filing systems inside the human brain. It stores valuable information and is kept until retrieved when needed. Unlike dreams, memories are created from human experiences.

Dreams and memories have similarities as well.

Both have encrypted information from the brain that artificial intelligence do not have. A.I's memories are given by humans to keep information. A.I's do not know how to create things unless they are provided the necessary programs.

Human ID Number: A12301991

Residency Rank: A, First Class

_xXxXxXxX_

Sighing, he inhaled the sweet fragrance of dewy grass and felt the cool crisp breeze tickle his nose. He could hear the faint sound of long extinct birds chirping somewhere in the brush and the sliding of grass against his pants. Smiling warmly, he opened his eyes. It was a breathless sight. An infinite meadow with tall grass danced as the sun was kissing the horizon and radiating warm sepia rays.

This world, the ancient world, when technology was still a hand held cell phone and when there were thousands of species in the animal kingdom. It was beautiful. Especially the flowers that are as bright as the sun. He envied the person who owned this memory. Their bones kept these images from those years ago, embedded with blissful history without lifeless artificial machines. He wished he were born before the advancing of technology took over the previous human world.

Much to his dismay, large violet digits glowed through the orange reverie.

'Welcome back Mr. Braginsky' A monotone, mechanical gender-neutral voice echoed in his head, awakening him.

_xXxXx_

Neon violet and pink hologram words encircled my head. Irritated that I was forced out of the mementos program, I flung the thin head piece off and stomped out of the sickening neon room. It was the second time this week I was forced to give up sleep credits for another pointless meeting.

"A.I, send out for a car to pick me up in-" Tapping the glowing violet ear piece. I was irritated with these fancy gadgets. A small hologram screen appeared by my right eye. "Twenty minutes."

'Pick up time set at O'eight hundred.'

The car was unlike the cars I've seen from my sleep credits. Rubber black tires were illegal for the past century and asphalt are considered 'a legend' among the people today. Aerial transportation. The old, where is my flying car, joke, was no longer something to whine about for modern civilization. There were no wings or rockets connected to these vehicles, it was all about physics and magnets and all that other science crap. Everything of this era pissed me off.

A thick stream of warm-hot water rushed down my back, making the glass steam. Even if the stream of water was soothing, there was a time limit that I can hit, unless I want to get rid of more of my damn credits.

Credits. Why the hell were credits created? Why couldn't currency remain paper and coins like it was centuries ago?

_xXxXx_

There are three levels of this vast city. Well, a metropolis.

The lower level, ground level, consists mostly of sewers and ruins of the old world. There are rumors that there are people who live in that lower level but are only criminals or homeless. But those are rumors. The second level, Level C-E, are the people who are the working class. Sadly, the lower and second level never see day light. Level one, Stratolevel. Where daylight breaks through the towers rise from ground level, seventy kilometers from ground level. Born of a man of heavy military power, I was 'blessed' to be a Class A resident of Metro-Moscow.

The aerial vehicle stopped in the Veps District. It was the area where companies thrived and offices were high in the stratosphere. Gazing up at the massive tower, where the top disappeared into the hazy atmosphere, I was more concern about the pollution than this damned meeting.

The inside was sterile white, even the main desk was fucking white, it was irritating. Quickly, my freshly shined shoes tapped against the sterile white linoleum as I ignored the robotic receptionist and jabbed the lift button repeatedly. The lift was, of course, white, but the inside was a one way window.

Today, it was another meeting with the two CEOs of the American-English Arms Industry. This industry was the main three of the Metro Nations' Arms Industries on Earth. I was a part of the Easter Euro-Asia Arms Industry, including the Middle East and 'quasi'-India; specifically the CEO of the Russian and Slavic metro-nations industry.

"This industry cannot support that! It is difficult to send troops if they are already allied with the Venusians! Especially manufacturing weapons! If we do so, then the factories and ore mines on Luna will require more workers, which means deporting more level E civilians!" Frustrated with the American-English National Arms Industry demanding impossible needs, I was on the verge of kicking the two CEOs of AENA Industry out of this building. "The E civilians are against the deporting of workers to Luna!"

"Well if you don't know how to control those low lives, then I suggest you give up your chair and just become another bastard who wears a tie!" The man with the twitchy eyebrows yelled. I can tell by his heavy breathing, he was refraining himself from cussing and strangling me. It was amusing.

"Damn it! Forget those Venus Colonies! They're like neat freaks or something!" The obnoxious one with squared glasses yelled. "All they fucking do is isolate themselves and refuse to have any goddamn human contact! They can raise their own freakin' militia!"

"But that won't solve the issue of the manufacturing of weapons! The Common Arms Treaty of the Metro Nations is to prevent the mass manufacture of artillery on Earth, Earth Colonies, Communal Colonies, and surface based colonies! This will break the treaty and create a war worse than the Biosphere Wars!" Huffing, my muscles were tense, as my heart beat rapidly against my ribs. Taking deep breaths, the frustration was threatening to break through my mental barriers. "If you want to start another pointless war, then do it! But leave the Eastern Euro-Asia Industry out!"

Immediately, I left the large meeting room. The two were left frustrated and arguing. Gritting my teeth, I just wanted to go and bash their heads in with a pipe. Where can I find one?

_xXxXxXx_

I always wanted to experience snow. If it were fluffy like a pillow and if it were like powdery like flour rations. Yes, growing up in Metro-Russia in the Moscow-Veps District, you'd expect snow. Except, since climate is now controllable. No longer will there be snow or heat waves. Only a constant nice weather of warm springs and slightly chilly autumns. Winter and Summer were cut out.

Luckily, I saved up enough credits to find my own mementos winter program. Snow. It was cold, yes, very cold. The snow was not soft but it was somewhat powdery, in a melting sort of way. Doing some research of snow I learned it was small ice particles, interesting.

These dreams are bliss. I can feel, sense, and see everything.

I seemed to be in a rural area. A frost covered wooden fence lined a snow covered dirt, maybe, road. I must be in a memory's country side. The trees were tall and covered in frost and snow, as well as the brush. In the distance, there stood a tall peak covered in snow. My breath was in thick foggy puffs, giggling slightly, I began to quickly blow heavily to see more puffs of my breath.

"I think I like this!"

Humming, I gleefully scooped up a handful of white and tossed it in the air. Slowly, it fell. The small frozen crystals glittered in the clear crisp sky and some melted at contact on my face.

"Pretty." I breathed.

"Yes. The snow is pretty." A soft voice spoke.

"Uh, yes." Confused, I took a swift step back. I control what artificial person, or illusion, I want in these mementos program. And usually I make sure there are no illusions. Odd. Before a memory can become a mementos program, the memories of people are wiped clean. Even if I chose illusions, I have only a few selected, and this illusion is not a part. This is not an illusion.

_xXxXxXx_

Dreams are rare to come by naturally for Earth born and space born people. Usually 1 out of 70 million are capable of having this rare natural dream. With more than ninety percent of Earth and Space civilization lower than Class B, people go night after night of no such 'dreams'.

Mementos Program. A program, only affordable by Class A residents, consists dreams of the past world. These 'mementos' are memories from the bones of the deceased. Collected from old world graves, these bones contain the images before Earth became overpopulated.

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Disclaimer: I do now own Hetalia.


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